


soup and skype calls

by anthez



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Sick Character, Sick Keith (Voltron), swimmer Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12680058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthez/pseuds/anthez
Summary: lance is in san francisco, while keith is in chicago. distance makes things hard, but they manage. they always do.





	soup and skype calls

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at eleven pm, and i didn't revise it, so apologies if there's any errors !

Keith is exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. His joints ached painfully as he climbed the stairs of his apartment building, his rain soaked jacket clinging to his shoulders. He finally reaches the fourth floor, digging through all his pockets in search of his keys. Fumbling to find the right key, he jams it in the lock, pushes the door open and lets it slam against the wall. He immediately dumps his bag by the door, toeing off his shoes and peeling his damp socks off.

“Lance?” He calls out, waiting for a response. No response came, besides Lance’s french bulldog Blue, who came bounding out of the bedroom and jumps up to hug Keith’s leg. Right. Lance was in California, over two-thousand miles away from their home in Chicago.

It’s been a few days now since Lance left to practice at a facility in San Francisco, while Keith stayed in Chicago to continue his classes and take care of Blue and Red. While it wasn’t ideal, they were stable enough to manage, relying on early morning text conversations and late night skype calls. It didn’t help that there was a three hour time difference, so when Keith was waking up at seven o’clock, it was four in the morning in San Francisco.

He bends down to scoop Blue up into his arms, letting her lick his face as he makes his way to their bedroom. He places Blue on the end of the bed before walking into the bathroom and closing the door. His clothes peel away from his skin, making a gross sound as the fall to the floor. He towels off, then goes to search for something warm to wear. He grabbed the first shirt he could find in the stack of clothes in their closet, pulling it on over his head and wringing his damp hair out. It was a grey sweater that Lance used to sleep in, but he forgot it when he was packing a few weeks ago. No matter how many times Keith washed it, Lance’s scent still clung to it. He rucked the sleeves up so they were bunched around his elbows, then pulled on a pair of black sweatpants which were covered in orange cat hair.

Blue follows him out into the kitchen, letting out a yip when she spots Red who is watching him from his perch on top of the table. He walks over to scratch him behind the ears before going to dig through the cabinets in search of something he could quickly make into dinner. Finally he gave up and poured himself a bowl of cheerios, sitting down at the table to eat while petting Blue.

“Oh fuck, I didn’t feed you,” Keith mutters to Red, abandoning his cereal to get the cat food and dump some out into Red’s bowl. He leaps down off the table and gratefully digs in, purring loudly. He laughs to himself, then forces himself to finish the rest of his, albeit soggy, cereal.

He brings the bowl to his lips and chugs down the rest of the milk. He sets the empty bowl in the sink, then migrates to the living room. Minutes later, Blue joins him, hopping up onto his lap as he flipped through the Netflix menu. She technically wasn’t allowed on the couch, but Keith didn’t have the heart to kick her off. Nothing was really catching his eye, so picked the Road to El Dorado (which he had watched the past two nights) and dragged his laptop over. He checks the time to see when Lance would call. 9:52 PM. Lance would be leaving practice any minute now, and would probably call in a half hour.

He switches over to twitter, scrolling aimlessly through his feed. His hand scratches at the top of Blue’s head until she fell asleep, her tongue flopped out of her mouth and snoring every so often. Twenty minutes later and his head is throbbing in pain. His nose is steadily dripping, forcing him to sniffle every five seconds. Snatching the box of tissues off the coffee table, he makes a feeble attempt to blow his nose, but all it does is pop his ears.

He checks his phone once again - 10:46 and Lance still has yet to text or call. Keith shuts his laptop and sets it on the other end of the couch, gently sliding Blue off his lap so he could get up. His legs are sore underneath him as he stumbles his way to the bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing some advil. He swallows them dry as he shut the cabinet, wincing as they drag down his sore throat.

Then it hits him.

Within seconds, he’s lurching over the toilet bowl, hurling up everything he had eaten today in one go. Slumping back against the wall, he wipes the dribble off his chin, then slides the hair tie off his wrist and pulls his hair back into a stubby ponytail. Keith never gets sick, but of course the one time he does, his boyfriend is two thousand fucking miles away.

In the other room, his phone is lighting up with texts from Lance, who’s wondering why Keith isn’t answering his skype calls.

Blue had woken up when she realized Keith was no longer there, scampering off the couch to look for him. Keith could hear the pitter patter of her paws as she trots in the bedroom. She whines when she doesn’t find Keith, then begins to bark. Keith groans loudly enough for Blue to hear. The barking stops as she runs to the bathroom, nosing the door open and slides across the tiles to get to Keith. He laughed wetly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before picking her up and cuddling her to his chest. She licks the stray tears on his cheeks, nuzzling his face as he continues to cry.

For the next ten minutes, Keith dry heaved into the bowl until he was sure there was nothing left to come out. Sitting on the bathroom floor helped cool him down a bit, though he still felt feverish. He heaves himself up off the ground, holding Blue steady under one arm as he walks out into the living room to grab his laptop and phone.

Returning to the bedroom, he slides under the covers of their bed, pulling his laptop onto his chest. Blue makes herself comfortable on Lance’s pillow, soon followed by Red who hops up onto the bed and lies next to Keith’s feet. He has a mini panic attack when he notices all the texts from Lance, and quickly opens skype to call. It rings for all of two seconds before Lance picks up. His hair is tousled and wet, a big blue hoodie fitting snugly over his torso. He’s sitting on the couch in the house he was renting out with the other guys from the team for the month, his eyes lighting up when Keith finally appears on the screen.

“Babe, finally! I called you about a hundred times, where were you?” Lance asks, leaning forward in his chair.

“I’m fine Lance, I was just in the shower,” Keith waves Lance off, trying to mask how nasally his voice sounded. Lance wasn’t so easily fooled however, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What?” He feigns ignorance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lance presses, ignoring Keith’s eye roll, “you don’t look so good.” There he goes, being a good, observant boyfriend. Jackass.

“I swear Lance, I feel fine. It’s just a bit cold out, and it’s been raining all day.” Keith says, tilting the camera so Blue was in frame, “She’s been sleeping on your pillow for the past two weeks.”

Lance eyes Keith warily for a moment, then smiles at Blue. “I’m gone for one month, and you replace me with my own dog, you heartless bastard,” He grins, getting a laugh out of Keith.

They continue with their usual back and forth, though every minute or so Lance would look down at his lap, which Keith assumes is where his phone was. “Who’re you texting?” Keith asks, watching as Lance taps at his phone.

“Uh, just sending Hunk some pictures,” Lance says, not looking up as he chews on his bottom lip. He finally finishes, setting his phone back on the desk. “So after this next meet, I’ll most likely be flying back to Chicago for a few months,” He says. Keith eyes widened momentarily, a massive grin spreading across his face. Lance smiles too, resting his chin in his palm.

“I miss you,” Keith whispers, just barely loud enough for Lance to hear, “like, a lot.”

“I miss you too,” Lance says, just as quietly. A chorus of ‘ooooh’s in the background startles them out of the moment. Keith could hear the other guy’s teasing Lance, someone in the background yelling “you’re such a sap, Sanchez!”

“Piss off, dickheads” Lance groans, flipping them off as he scoops up his laptop and retreats to his room.

The door clicks shut behind him, the camera jostling around as he settles himself on the bed. “I’m going to go change into my pajamas, I’ll be right back,” Lance says before disappearing off screen.

Keith lazily scrolls through his instagram feed as he waits for Lance, startling when he hears a knock at his front door. He shoves his computer off his lap and gets out of bed, padding over to the front door and peering through the peep-hole. Shiro is standing in the hall, a brown paper bag in one hand and his phone in the other as he types away.

“I’m not home,” Keith calls through the door, snickering at Shiro’s eye roll. Begrudgingly, he pulls the door open, raising an eyebrow at his older brother, “What do you want, Takashi?”

“Hello to you too, Keith. I’m doing good, thanks for asking, you’re so considerate,” Shiro snarks, tone dripping with sarcasm. Keith huffs and steps aside to let him inside, then closes the door behind him.

“But seriously, why are you here?” Keith asks, eyeing the large paper bag.

“Lance text me and said you were sick, so I brought soup,” Shiro sets the bag on the counter, pulling out a cup of soup and a chunk of bread from Panera.

“But I’m not sick!” Keith protests, “He’s just being dramatic,” he stalks off to the bedroom, grabbing his laptop to yell at Lance. “You told Shiro I was sick?” His outburst scares Lance who was busy reading.

“Well yeah, what else was I supposed to do?” Lance says, setting his book down and giving Keith a look.

“I already told you, I feel fine,” He insists. Keith knows Lance has him figured out, but he isn’t about to give up now.

“Really? Because you’ve been sniffling the entire call, and you’ve sneezed fourteen times. I counted,” Lance retorts.

“Keith, why is there vomit in your toilet? And why didn’t you flush it?” Shiro calls from the bathroom, peeking his head around the door frame. “That’s just gross.”

“Shit, sorry, I guess I forgot,” Keith says, getting up to go flush the vomit.  _ That really is disgusting. _

“You threw up?” Lance asks when Keith returns.

“It was just once, and I don’t feel nauseous anymore,” Keith insists.

“Keith, I’m going to leave your food in the kitchen, while you and Lance sort this out,” Shiro interjects, giving Keith a quick hug goodbye and tells him to get better soon.

Keith sighs, cradling his head in his hands as he tried to figure out a way to explain this without pissing Lance off even more. “I just have a headache now. I promise, I don’t even feel that bad. I figured you’d get worked up about not being here,” He says as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Alright, but just know I’m getting worked up because I care.” Lance relents.

“Sap,” Keith mutters, snickering at Lance’s offended expression.

“Sorry for caring about your well being,” Lance huffs, crossing his arms.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry Lance. I should’ve told you I didn’t feel well,” Keith says. Lance accepts his apology, then gets up to grab his book and start rambling about how it’s a ‘literary masterpiece’

Keith eats his broccoli and cheese soup while Lance talks, occasionally chiming in until it was nearly two a.m., and Keith was about to fall asleep at the kitchen table. “I’m gonna go to bed, you should too,” Lance says around a yawn. Keith nods in agreement, tossing the soup container in the trash then walking out of the kitchen to the bedroom.

Lance sets his laptop to the side as he rolls over to turn his lamp off. “Night, babe,” He murmurs, fighting to keep his eyes open for a few more seconds.

“Night,” Keith waves goodbye before closing his laptop and placing it on the nightstand. He rolls over on his side, Blue coming over to curl up in his arms. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, drooling on his pillow as he slept.

When he woke the next morning at ten, he found that his headache subsided, and now only had a runny nose. He sends a thank you text to Shiro for the soup, and a good morning text to Lance, who at the moment would probably getting ready for practice.

Two weeks later, he was able to watch Lance compete thanks to a livestream online, celebrating with Blue and Red when the team managed to win by a mere two point six seconds. He skyped Lance after he got back from the meet, listening happily as Lance prattled on about the competition. He stayed on the call for hours until Lance passed out, his snores the only thing Keith could hear.

At the end of November, after two months apart, Keith was able to greet Lance at the O’Hare airport, burying his face in Lance’s shoulder as he grips the fabric of Lance’s jacket. “I missed you, asshole,” He mumbles into Lance’s shoulder, hearing Lance huff out a laugh.

“I missed you too, dickhead,” Lance replies as he presses his face into Keith’s hair. Keith drove home, one hand on the wheel and the other secured in Lance’s grip as he sang along to the radio.

Blue greets them at the door, barking wildly when she sees Lance, who immediately drops to his knees and let Blue lick all over his face. “You know she licks her ass, right?” Keith says, watching the two roll around on the floor.

“Do I look like I care?” Lance says with a smirk, just as Blue licked into his mouth. He sputters to get the dog spit out of his mouth, ignoring Keith’s cackling. “You’re evil,” Lance groans, but still grabs Keith’s hand to drag him to their bedroom. Lance disappears into the bathroom as Keith changes out of his jeans and crawled into bed. Ten minutes later, Keith hears the bathroom door open and the mattress dip next to him.

Keith scoots over so he’s pressed up against Lance, tilting his head up to look at him. “I’ve said this a million times, but I really missed this,” Lance says softly, his hand coming up to run through Keith’s hair

“I did too,” Keith whispers, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth, then turned to give him a real kiss. It was languid and soft, with the perfect amount of passion, and everything Keith loved. When they separated, Lance rested his forehead against Keith’s his eyes falling shut, though his lips were still quirked up at the corners. “Love you,” Keith mutters through a yawn, burrowing further into Lance’s arms.

“Love you too,” Keith hears Lance whisper back before he fell asleep, the most content he had been in weeks.


End file.
